It must be the ALIENS!
by Andrew-Squee
Summary: In whatever chapter I just wrote, Vaughn, Weiss and Jack are going on a mission to get the rotunda's power back! yippie! ON probably permanent HIATUS
1. Wheezing Vaughn

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS (although, if I did, I wouldn't make it go on a February hiatus!) nor do I own anything in association to ALIAS or its sponsors and what-not. so no suing! Thank you!  
  
Vaughn ran down through the hallways of the Joint CIA headquarters in Los Angeles.  
  
"Weiss!" He yelled. "Weiss!"  
  
"What?" Eric asked, turning around to face Vaughn.  
  
"Sydney's... gone!" Michael wheezed. Man was he out of shape.  
  
"What do you mean, gone?" Eric asked, confused. Of course Sydney was gone, I mean, she didn't have to stay in the "office" all day, and it was eight pm.  
  
"I mean, like, gone, gone! Like, not at her apartment gone!" Michael replied.  
  
"So?" Eric asked. He wasn't getting why Michael was acting like this. Sydney could be anywhere. Los Angeles was a big city.  
  
"No, you don't understand!" Michael exclaimed.  
  
"No duh." Eric thought, but said, "Well, how about you explaining it to me?"  
  
"SHE DISAPPEARED IN THE PARKING GRARAGE!" Michael yelled. 


	2. Area 51 and Abductions

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS or anything affiliated with it. So no suing!  
  
"What do you mean she disappeared in the parking lot?" Eric asked.  
  
"I mean, the video footage in the garage shows her there one minute, and gone the next." Michael replied, pacing back and forth.  
  
"And you think that she was abducted?" Eric asked, covering up a laugh.  
  
"YES! Those aliens kidnapped her! You know, the ones in Area 51 that we aren't suppose to talk about?!" Michael exclaimed.  
  
"Um..." Eric hesitated. What aliens? And what's this "Area 51" Vaughn's talking about?  
  
"Earth to Weiss, hello, are you there?!" Michael exclaimed, frantic.  
  
"Yeah, I'm here. But, I don't think that Syd was 'abducted' by aliens." Eric replied, laughing.  
  
"She was too! And I've got proof!" Michael exclaimed, then ran off to who knows where.  
  
A few minutes later, he came back, waving a video tape.  
  
"Come on! Let's take this to Marshall!" Michael exclaimed, dragging Weiss to Marshall's office.  
  
"Hello, Vaughn, Weiss." Marshall stammered, "Need some thing? You know, I was talking to Carrie and..."  
  
Michael cut him off. "We need you to look at this tape, and tell us where Sydney went."  
  
"Um, sure. It shouldn't take more than a couple minutes. So, what do you think happened to her?" Marshall asked, placing the tape in a VCR.  
  
"Vaughn..." Eric began.  
  
"WE!" Michael chimed in.  
  
"Right." Eric half-heartedly agreed, "We think that she was abducted by aliens."  
  
"Aliens? Like the ones in Area 51 that we aren't suppose to talk about?" Marshall asked, getting excited.  
  
"Exactly!" Michael exclaimed.  
  
Eric sighed. "The two of you... are crazy."  
  
Vaughn waved him off, and continued to talk to Marshall about the aliens and Area 51.  
  
Suddenly, they heard a BEEP on the TV screen.  
  
"Hold on, I think we've got something!" Marshall exclaimed. The three of them watched intently as they say Sydney, and flash of light, and then POOF! Syd was gone.  
  
"I'm telling you, it's got to be the aliens!" Michael exclaimed.  
  
"Or maybe it's the Covenant." Eric suggested.  
  
"NO WAY!" Marshall and Michael exclaimed simultaneously.  
  
"Uh, yes way?" Eric said, puzzled.  
  
"NO WAY!" They repeated.  
  
"Whatever. The two of you can think that its aliens all you want. Just leave me out of it." Eric requested.  
  
"Sure, but you'll be missing out on all of the fun!" Michael exclaimed.  
  
"What-ever!" Eric said, leaving Michael and Marshall to their alien theories. 


	3. Hollywood, Florida

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS. Nor anything else that has to do with it. Although, I do, however, own Catherine Rossakoff.  
  
Half way across the world... (In Florida) Sydney was being held in an old silent movie theater.  
  
"You see..." Catherine began, "Hollywood wasn't always in California. No, you see, it was originally in Florida. When silent films were big, people use to crowd this theater. It's rather sad that now all we have for entertainment is Ashton Kutcher's love life with Demi Moore.  
  
"people in America use to consider going to the theater a privilege. Unless you were rich. But that's another rant that you're sure to hear.  
  
"They use to go, once a week, usually on Saturday, to the old silent film viewing. Times were simpler then, and there wasn't greedy corporate McDonald's® that had no shame and went all around the globe so that it could fatten the world up. Yes. However, I digress. Now, as to why you are here, I cannot answer that (nor would I) because, well, I have no desire to get my head blown off."  
  
"If you wouldn't talk so much..." Sark said, standing on the balcony.  
  
"And if you weren't such a horrible boss..." Catherine countered.  
  
"Shut up." Sark harshly ordered.  
  
"Make me!" Catherine whispered, skipping off to behind the stage.  
  
"Sorry she's so... weird." Sark apologized to Sydney.  
  
"She's not weird." Sydney said, although it was muffled and didn't sound quite like it was suppose to. (Hey, it's not her fault she was gagged!)  
  
"What?" Sark asked. "I don't think I heard you correctly, Ms. Bristow."  
  
"What are you going to do when I get married?" Sydney thought. "I highly doubt that you'll take the time to call me 'Mrs. Bristow.' It seems so like you to take the easy way out of things."  
  
"Are you plotting something in that deviously intelligent brain of your?" Catherine asked from the stage.  
  
"I'm not." A confused Sark replied.  
  
"NOT YOU! Her!" Catherine exclaimed, pointing at Sydney.  
  
"Well, you could have said that originally!" Sark scoffed.  
  
Sydney let out a muffled sigh. "I'm surrounded by idiots no matter where I go!" She thought.  
  
On stage, Catherine was prancing around. Then, suddenly, without warning, she pulled out a gun and shot at the screen.  
  
"What on this green earth are you doing?!" Sark asked.  
  
"There's a man behind the screen." Catherine replied. "Besides, the earth is mostly blue Mr. I-went-to-a-private-school-in-England-and-know-nothing!"  
  
It was Sark's turn to sigh. "Catherine, you don't mean that."  
  
"I do! Oh, here comes the man now!" She exclaimed, as a flustered Jack Bristow walked out from behind the screen.  
  
"Catherine!" He yelled, "You aren't supposed to shoot at me!"  
  
"Sorry!" She yelped. "I thought you might have been... never mind."  
  
"Thought I might have been who?" Jack asked, squinting at her.  
  
"Cole." She whispered.  
  
"WHY WOULD YOU SHOOT AT HIM?!?" Jack yelled.  
  
"Because Mr. I-went-to-a-private-school-in-England-and-know-nothing over there told me to!" She replied.  
  
"Sark told you to shoot at Cole?" Jack asked, confused.  
  
"Yeah. He also told me a lot of other stuff that I probably shouldn't repeat, because that might make the rating go up just a bit." Catherine replied.  
  
"Right. Anyway, Julian, I have come to make a proposal." Jack said, turning his attention to the man in the balcony.  
  
"Go right ahead." Sark agreed.  
  
"You give me Sydney, I give you five million." Jack offered.  
  
"How about six?" Sark countered.  
  
"5.5"  
  
"Six."  
  
"5.6?"  
  
"Six."  
  
"5.9?"  
  
"Six."  
  
"FINE! SIX IT IS!"  
  
"Wow. That was smooth negotiating, Mr. B." Catherine joked.  
  
"Ms. Rossakoff, I am not in the mood for games right now." Jack sighed.  
  
"That's okay! I have a twelve hour flight with Julian." Catherine snickered.  
  
"Sounds like a trip." Jack agreed.  
  
Whilst Jack and Catherine were having their conversation, Sark had come down to the aisle Sydney was in and untied her.  
  
"Thank you." She said.  
  
"You're quite welcome." He replied. Then, he got a swift kick in the stomach from Sydney as she was leaving.  
  
"Payback." She shrugged.  
  
"I assumed as much." Sark replied. 


	4. The Covenant vs Area 51

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS or anything remotely associated with it.  
  
By the time that Weiss had come back, Vaughn and Marshall had finished their "discussion" of Area 51.  
  
"Now that that's over..." Weiss muttered, as he and Vaughn headed to the briefing room to talk to Dixon about this "Alien" problem.  
  
"What can I help the two of you with?" Dixon asked.  
  
Before Weiss could say anything, however, Vaughn had gone into a long narrative of what he thought was Syd's "abduction." Dixon just stared at him.  
  
"Told you it was crazy" Weiss muttered to Vaughn when he was finished with his tyrant.  
  
"What do you want me to do about it?" Dixon asked. "March up to the UFO and get her back?" There was amusement in his voice.  
  
"Yes!" Vaughn exclaimed in complete seriousness.  
  
Dixon could no longer contain his laughter. "I'll... get right on it." He managed to gasp out between giggles.  
  
Vaughn turned away hurt.  
  
"You know, I told that you were insane!" Weiss said to Vaughn.  
  
"But, it seems like a possibility!" Vaughn whined.  
  
"I'm sure it is, just... not the most likely one." Weiss consoled.  
  
"But... but... then what else could it be?" Vaughn asked.  
  
"I don't know, perhaps the Covenant?" Weiss suggested, mockery in his voice.  
  
"I suppose." Vaughn sniffed. "If that's what everyone else says."  
  
In the parking garage, Sydney and Jack headed to the elevator. 


	5. Airport Terminals

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS, my mind, or my body. I do however, own this idea, and Catherine Rossakoff. ALIAS belongs to bad robot, and various other things I cannot remember, my mind belongs to my evil, overbearing school, and my body belongs to my phone. The phone belongs to Samsung, and I think Samsung belongs to Cingular, which belongs to some parent company (probably Coca-Cola).  
  
A/N: I would like to thank LilSuferSango and E*Milzon for reviewing. (  
  
Catherine glanced around the airport terminal. She was use to flying, but it never ceased to amaze her at how many, well, FREAKS there were in an airport.  
  
Sark kept glimpsing at Catherine. He wasn't sure how she felt about flying, mostly because the two of them never talked. She was an accessory. An amazing fighter, but an accessory none the less.  
  
"If you glance at me one more time, Julian, I am going to slit your throat with my knife." Catherine muttered, loud enough so that only he heard.  
  
"Nice to know that American transit authority can detect actual terrorists" Sark murmured.  
  
"Oh, shut up." Catherine ordered.  
  
"You don't give the orders, I do." Sark replied, cross.  
  
"Mmm hmm, I'm sure. If that's true, then why am I the one that keeps coming up with all of the plans?" Catherine asked.  
  
"You do not!" Sark protested.  
  
"Someone's in denial, someone's in denial." Catherine teased.  
  
"Shut up!" Sark yelled. A woman and her three children turned and stared, making him blush.  
  
"Hello!" Catherine waved. The woman turned around.  
  
"Come on, children, it's not nice to stare." She told them.  
  
"Well, that was rather rude." Sark commented, his face returning to its normal color.  
  
Catherine laughed. "You know, I was thinking..."  
  
"You? Thinking? That's a shocker." Sark mocked.  
  
Catherine stuck her tongue out at him. "Anyway... I was thinking that there's got to be something that you had that you just loved that it just kills you that you don't have it anymore."  
  
"Well... now... that's a rather peculiar question." Sark mused.  
  
"Thank you!" Catherine replied.  
  
"I think that, at one point, I would have liked to respond to that with my innocence. However, now I don't know what to say." Sark told her.  
  
"How very strange of you to bring that up..." Catherine began.  
  
"Well, what's your answer?" Sark asked, annoyed.  
  
"I think... I think that it would have to be my sister." Catherine replied.  
  
"You have a sister?" A surprised Sark asked.  
  
"Yes, a younger sister. She was off to her first year of school when I left home." Catherine replied, a far away look in her eye.  
  
"Final Boarding Call for Euro Air Flight 492 to Moscow, Russia" The P.A. system announced. Sark and Catherine jumped up.  
  
"You know... if you weren't so busy asking questions..." Sark muttered.  
  
"Shut up!" Catherine ordered, hitting him as they were running to the plane.  
  
"I'm telling your mother!" Sark threatened.  
  
"You don't even know my mother!" Catherine exclaimed.  
  
Sark and Catherine sped up, as if racing each other. (And, knowing them, they probably are.) 


	6. Thingamahwhatitztz

Disclaimer: Ug no own ALIAS, and neither do I.  
  
"Okay, so, maybe it was the covenant." Vaughn thought. "Or maybe, just maybe, it really was aliens. I mean, Syd wouldn't let herself get caught by the Covenant. Would she?"  
  
Just then, Jack walked in, talking to himself.  
  
"Um, Jack, you do know that you're talking to yourself, right?" Dixon asked.  
  
"What? No I'm not!" Jack protested. "I'm talking to..." A quick look around told him that he was not talking to Sydney.  
  
"Who are you talking to, Jack?" Dixon asked, holding back a laugh rather poorly.  
  
"Well, I was talking to Sydney." Jack replied. "But she must have gone off somewhere."  
  
"Jack, Sydney's not here. She went missing this morning." Vaughn told him.  
  
"I know! She was taken by the Covenant! I'm telling you, though; she was here with me a couple of minutes ago, before... well, before I got here, apparently." Jack protested.  
  
"Riiiight" Weiss said. He had come to the conclusion he was working with a bunch of nutcases.  
  
Marshall ran in just then, waving a piece of paper in his right hand.  
  
"I've got it! Vaughn was right! Syd WAS abducted!" He exclaimed.  
  
Vaughn stuck his tongue out at Weiss.  
  
"What do you mean?" Jack asked, not believing what Marshall was saying.  
  
"I mean," Marshall paused for dramatic effect, "That based up some really advanced science and really high tech technology, Sydney was abducted by an alien race."  
  
"What? How is that possible?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Well, there's a thingy and a whatzamadoozle and they combine with the joysticklethang to create some really freaky lines on a line machine thingy and then you get the results that say there was an extra amount of funny symbols in the air at the time of Sydney's disappearance." Marshall explained.  
  
"So that means that she was abducted?" Dixon asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yes!" Marshall exclaimed.  
  
Upon hearing this, Vaughn began to do some weird version of a disco, the YMCA, the chicken dance, and a cabbage patch.  
  
"So... how do we get her back?" Weiss asked, diverting his attention away from Vaughn's obscure victory party.  
  
"We... don't." Marshall replied, his face falling. "Because, a few of those thingamawhatizts say that there's this magical barrier around her, so that you have to have some special key to get her out."  
  
"Well, where's the key?" Dixon asked.  
  
"Moscow." Marshall replied. 


	7. Dumb Blonde Jokes

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS, other people and some major corporations do. Yeah, yeah, yeah, same old rubbish I suppose. Oh, but I do own Cathy Rossakoff! So no takee!  
  
Catherine sat staring at the instructional video for if the plane was to malfunction or crash or they were to go on autopilot. Or, even, if Sark were to decide that he wanted to fly it himself. Although, she didn't think he had ever flown a plane, and really didn't want to know if he could or not.  
  
"It really doesn't help much." Sark told her, snapping on the seatbelt so the stewardess wouldn't yell at him again.  
  
"Well, just don't try and be all big, bad, blonde terrorist on me, okay?" Catherine requested.  
  
Sark sighed. "Did you really have to include the 'blonde' part?"  
  
"Hmm... yeah," Catherine replied. "Heard any good dumb blonde jokes lately?"  
  
"I have never heard a good dumb blonde joke. I've just heard really stupid ones." Sark told her.  
  
Catherine smiled. "Well, I'm going to change that."  
  
Sark laughed. "I highly doubt that."  
  
"It's a twelve hour flight, Julian. I do believe that I can change your mind in twelve hours." Catherine promised.  
  
"You can try your heart out, Cathy. I won't stop you." Sark replied.  
  
"Don't call me Cathy." Catherine ordered.  
  
"Don't call me Julian." Sark replied.  
  
"Fine," Catherine agreed.  
  
"Fine," Sark echoed.  
  
After the plane had taxied around the runway for a few minutes, Catherine leaned over to Sark.  
  
"What do you call a fly buzzing inside a blonde's head?" She asked.  
  
"I'm not going to answer that." Sark replied.  
  
Catherine sighed. "You just did."  
  
"Did not! Sark protested.  
  
"Uh huh, did so." Catherine argued.  
  
"Just tell me the answer." Sark ordered, returning to the mission plans he had been reading.  
  
"A space invader" Catherine replied.  
  
Sark looked up from his reading and paused before responding. "Not funny." He said.  
  
Catherine sighed. "Fine... What do you call a blonde skeleton in the closet?"  
  
"Dead" Sark replied.  
  
"No duh!" Catherine exclaimed. "And I bet you killed them, too."  
  
"Did not, did not, did not!" Sark whined.  
  
"Stop being such a baby." Catherine ordered.  
  
"Last year's hide and seek champion." Sark muttered, returning to the mission plans.  
  
"No fair!" Catherine exclaimed.  
  
"I've heard them all. You aren't going to fine a dumb blonde joke I've never been told." Sark explained.  
  
"I'm sure there is." Catherine scoffed.  
  
"You won't find one." Sark told her, shaking his head.  
  
"I will, too." Catherine replied. "Just wait." 


	8. More Cabbage Patching

Disclaimer: Don't own ALIAS, and if I did, I would give Vaughn and Syd less stupid mushy lines.  
  
A/N: Thanks to FireAnjel for reviewing.  
  
"I want a tactical team sent to Moscow. Vaughn, you and... Weiss will go in for this 'key.'" Dixon ordered. The joint Task Force building was all abuzz getting ready for this mission.  
  
"Will do!" Vaughn exclaimed.  
  
"Wait... what does the key look like?" Weiss asked. He was the only practical one in the building, it seemed.  
  
"It's some funny looking disc." Marshall shrugged. "I'll have an image downloaded to a computer once you're in-flight. It's a twelve hour flight, after all."  
  
"Yes... a twelve hour flight..." Jack muttered.  
  
~ Flashback ~  
  
"That's okay! I have a twelve hour flight with Julian." Catherine snickered.  
  
"Sounds like a trip." Jack agreed.  
  
~ End Flashback ~  
  
"The Covenant knows." Jack thought. "That's where Catherine and Sark are headed. But, then, who did I just hand over six million dollars in government funds for?"  
  
A brunette Lauren walked by him just then, preparing for the mission that she would be overseeing from the Joint Task Force Headquarters for the NSC.  
  
"Am I really that stupid?" Jack murmured.  
  
"Yes." The voice in the back of his head replied. "Yes, you are."  
  
~ Plane to Moscow ~  
  
Vaughn and Weiss sat towards the back of the plane.  
  
"Now do you believe that Sydney was abducted by aliens?" Vaughn asked.  
  
"Fine, I admit, you were right." Weiss sighed.  
  
"Now, on to Sydney rescuing!" Vaughn exclaimed.  
  
Weiss sighed. "This is going to be a loooong trip." He thought.  
  
Vaughn began to cabbage patch again.  
  
"A very long trip" Weiss muttered. 


	9. Boyfriends named Sark

Disclaimer: I don't own ALIAS! Gheesh... you'd think that most people would pick up on this by now...  
  
Catherine had been peacefully watching one of the in-flight movies, leaving Sark to his own devices. (No, he didn't take over the plane... Catherine would kill him if he did). However, the movie ended, and she had nothing to do for another fifteen minutes.  
  
Turning to Sark, she got a devious look in her eye.  
  
"Please don't tell me that you're going to renew your dumb blonde joke quest." Sark commented, glancing over at her from his laptop screen.  
  
"Nope" Catherine grinned.  
  
"Then... what are you going to do?" Sark asked, concerned for his safety and brain cells.  
  
"I just wanted to tell you that, 'in the frigid vastness of interstellar space a pin-point of matter-antimatter fluctuated from the void, creating an intense flash of electromagnetic radiation.'[i]" Catherine shrugged.  
  
"WHAT?!?!" Sark asked, loud enough for the entire plane to hear. Several people turned and stared at him.  
  
"Excuse my boyfriend, please. I just told him some rather startling news." Catherine explained in a perfect British accent. (She had to match Sark's voice, after all.)  
  
Slowly, people turned back around in their seats.  
  
"I am NOT your boyfriend!" Sark seethed.  
  
"Well, you sure as heck aren't my lover, my brother, my mentor, or even really my friend." Catherine coldly replied, her voice back to its normal Russian accent.  
  
"Well... I... maybe if..." Sark stammered. He was in deep, and there was no escape in sight.  
  
"Don't pin this on me. Anyway..." Catherine began, but was interrupted by the flight attendant with drinks. Both declined.  
  
"Anyway what?" Sark asked, returning to his cold, non-caring voice.  
  
"Anyway, I think that we should figure out what we're going to do about this whole 'Sydney-being-abducted-by-aliens' thing you've got going on with the CIA." Catherine replied.  
  
"What's to talk about?" Sark asked.  
  
"Well, first off, what you plan on doing about the "key" to the... never mind. I don't want to talk about work." Catherine replied.  
  
"What do you want to talk about?" Sark asked, dreading the answer.  
  
Catherine grinned. "Did you hear about the blonde who just bought an A.M. radio?" She asked, serious.  
  
"No." Sark sighed, "I don't."  
  
"It took him two weeks to figure out that you could play it at night." Catherine told him.  
  
Sark gave her a sideways glance. Then, he began to laugh. ----------------------- [i] Robin Cook, Invasion, pg. 1 


	10. 3 and a half Floppy A

Disclaimer: Only read this if you are looking for some laughs, please. I own ALIAS like I own cheese. I do not own cheese; therefore I do not own ALIAS. However, if I did own ALIAS, I wouldn't have had to make up Catherine, nor would I be coming up with alien-laden plots for FAN fiction. See, let's analyze the title... Fan means that you enjoy something and May possibility start/join a cult devoted to this thing, wither it be a TV show, or a sport. Fiction means that it is not reality, it is "fictional" So, what I'm trying to say is, I DON'T OWN ALIAS!!! Ghee! You need Dr. Barnett in your life if you think I do own such a wonderful, wonderful show!!! Now, on with the story! (Maybe)  
  
Weiss had been asleep since post-Vaughn dancing phase, and it turns out that he had missed a whole... five minutes of interesting flight stuff. Namely, the uplink of the "key" (if one could call it that) that would rescue Sydney from her alien captors. It was a rather strange key... apparently; these aliens were pretty low-tech creatures. The key was a regular 3 ½ sized floppy disc. Marshall hadn't been all too sure about what was on the disc, so he had warned them not to insert it into any computers. Like someone would be stupid enough to do that! Well, maybe a certain Mr. Cabbage patcher, cough, cough, VAUGHN cough, cough. But, as long as the duo of Weiss and Vaughn could get this key and turn it over to the tech crew that had gone with them to Moscow, everything would be a- okay. Unless this floppy disc was a decoy placed by the Covenant, as Jack strongly suspected. However, we won't get into that, because of a pin- point of matter-antimatter in a void.  
  
"Hey, Vaughn, how do you want to go about getting the key?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Well, first I want to scan for any alien life, and then scan for any sort of magical or technological barrier. After that, I think that we can retrieve it safely." Vaughn replied.  
  
"Sounds... good" Weiss agreed, trying not to laugh.  
  
"GOOD!" Vaughn exclaimed.  
  
Weiss nodded, and then went back to sleep. 


	11. The All Powerful Disc?

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with any original ALIAS characters. I do, however, own Catherine Rossakoff.  
  
Catherine was still grinning over her dumb blonde joke victory when Sark showed her the "key."  
  
"You mean to tell me that this all-powerful, Sydney-saving, mysterious key is a floppy disc?" She asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yes..." Sark replied. He was nervous, because Catherine was silent for a good thirty minutes before she finally responded.  
  
"What's on it?" She asked.  
  
Sark exhaled. "There're three programs. One will let the CIA download false coordinates to Sydney's holding cell, the other will give them a false code if they do figure out where Sydney is, and the third one will erase all CIA data and send it directly to the main computer back in Los Angeles." He replied.  
  
"Sounds perfectly fine to me. Where exactly is it supposed to be located?" Catherine asked.  
  
"There is an old Alliance warehouse in Moscow that was emptied a few months before the CIA take down. I've had a new alarm system installed, and the disc will be located in one of the old underground labs. There's to be a laser sensor around the disc on every side imaginable, and the only way to get trough the lasers is a special sequence of numbers that will only work if the correct person is entering them. The only way to confirm the identification of the person is through an optic scan." Sark replied.  
  
"You have this all planned out, don't you?" Catherine asked, her grin returning.  
  
"I have to. You would eat me alive if I didn't." Sark replied, mirroring her grin.  
  
"It's nice to know that you know the chain of command around here." Catherine nodded.  
  
"I suppose." Sark sighed. "I suppose." 


	12. Effiel Towers in France

Disclaimer: George Steinbrenner has a better chance of owning ALIAS than I do. Therefore, I do not own ALIAS. I never have, and never will.  
  
A/N: You all must hate me. I've been posting really short chapters... well, I promise you, this 'un is a long 'un.  
  
The plane carrying the tactical team had to make an emergency landing in Paris. There was a problem with one of the engines, and, odds were, the agents would be grounded for at least twenty four hours. So, Vaughn and Weiss decided to take a little field trip to the Eiffel Tower.  
  
"You know, the view from up here is amazing." Weiss remarked.  
  
"You've never been to the Eiffel Tower?" Vaughn asked, amazed.  
  
"Well, I've never really been in Paris with a day to kill, either." Weiss reminded him.  
  
"Yeah, but, never seeing the Eiffel Tower?" Vaughn asked. "Come on, man!"  
  
Weiss sighed. "I am on government salary, you know."  
  
"So am I! I, however, HAVE seen the Eiffel Tower!" Vaughn exclaimed.  
  
"Well, that's all fine and dandy, but maybe some of us haven't been on our honeymoons yet with evil, backstabbing... oh, wait, that's something I'm not allowed to reveal yet. Hold on! Rewind! !no dloH .tey laever ot dewolla ton m'I gnihtemos s'taht ,tiaw ,ho ...gnibbatskcab ,live, Play!, with our wonderful, lovely, wives." Weiss replied.  
  
"Riiiiight" Vaughn said, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Let's just get off the subject of the Eiffel Tower, s'il vous plaît." Weiss requested.  
  
"I suppose..." Vaughn sighed. "Hey... why do you think the aliens captured Sydney, anyway?"  
  
"How should I know?!" Weiss asked. "Maybe because she's the hottest woman on the planet, and they need some entertainment up there in outer space."  
  
"That is probably the dumbest thing that I have ever heard, and that's including some of the stuff I'VE said." Vaughn replied.  
  
"Yeah right" Weiss muttered. To Vaughn he said, "Including your alien abduction suggestion?"  
  
"Yes! That was not a stupid suggestion! Apparently, I was right!" Vaughn exclaimed.  
  
"Before you start some lame white boy dance..." Weiss began, but was interrupted by Vaughn's phone ringing.  
  
"Hello?" Vaughn asked, holding up a finger to tell Weiss he would need a minute.  
  
"No duh, Sherlock" Weiss murmured.  
  
"No, dear, Yes, dear. Whatever you say... hey, no, I love you, too. Bye, honey." Vaughn closed the phone.  
  
"Lauren?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Yeah. Apparently, something happened with her mother." Vaughn replied.  
  
"Yet another piece in the Covenant Puzzle." Weiss muttered.  
  
"What was that?" Vaughn asked, staring menacingly at Weiss.  
  
"Nothing, nothing at all." Weiss replied, a thin smile on his lips. "I think we should go to the hotel and get some sleep. After all, they could get the plane up and running sooner than expected."  
  
"I don't know... you go back. I think I'm going to be a bit longer." Vaughn told him.  
  
"All right, see you." Weiss said, waving as he got onto the elevator that would take him back down to ground level.  
  
Vaughn walked around the top most level of the tower for a good hour after Weiss had left. He was pondering over things, especially the alien issue he faced.  
  
"I wonder... I wonder..." He muttered, before heading back to the hotel. 


	13. Swing, Rope, Swing!

Disclaimer: I own Catherine. I own nothing else. I own... monkeys. Yeah, right. You want to know the bottom line? I DO NOT own ALIAS or anything remotely associated with it. I am, however, an avid fan, and will join a Sark cult one day (if my parents will pay for membership...). Also, I do not own The Facts of Life Theme song. It just fit.  
  
Catherine slid down the rope silently. She was testing the lasers surrounding the disc.  
  
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Sark asked for the twentieth time that night.  
  
"If I didn't, you would be up here, numbskull." Catherine muttered. "Now LET ME CONCENTRATE!"  
  
"Yes, ma'am" Sark replied, making him feel like he had shrunk some.  
  
Catherine flipped over on the rope so that her head was inches away from the beam. Reaching in with one hand, she maneuvered around the red beams to get to the disc. The rope swayed, and the lasers turned off.  
  
"Oh man!" She exclaimed, flipping back over. Swinging over to a ledge on the far wall, she unhooked the rope and began to descend down the ladder.  
  
"Did the rope sway again?" Sark asked.  
  
"Yeah" Catherine nodded. "It keeps moving!"  
  
Sark shrugged. "Maybe you should double the knot up at the top."  
  
Catherine shook her head. "No go. If I knot it anymore, then I'll have less rope to play with down at the bottom. The only way to get to the disc is through the tunnels, and those are sealed off in most places. I don't think Vaughn or Weiss will be able to get it."  
  
"You seem... cocky." Sark replied.  
  
"I need to be. If this goes wrong, it's my head for once, not yours." Catherine told him. "I actually need to be more right than cocky. No... I need YOU to be right."  
  
"I'm pretty sure it should work..." Sark began.  
  
"You need to be /i completely /i sure." Catherine interrupted.  
  
"I am!" Sark exclaimed in defense.  
  
"Good." Catherine nodded. "Now, I'm going to try to get it one more time."  
  
"Seventh times a charm?" Sark joked.  
  
Catherine laughed. "More like seventieth..."  
  
Grabbing the rope that was dangling down over the disc, Catherine tied herself on, and proceeded to climb up it. Once she got to the top, she nodded to Sark, who turned back on the lasers. Sliding down cautiously, Catherine got halfway before she accidentally slipped, and was dangling from just the knot around her waist. With a sharp intake of breath, Catherine swung her body so it was parallel to the rope. Grabbing it with her right hand, she waited until she was stable before continuing her downward path. Once she got to the beams, she flipped over, and snaked her hand down through the lasers. Her gloved hand touched the disc, before the rope swung again, cutting off the beams.  
  
"There is no way to get to the disc without the rope swaying." She told Sark, turning over and then dropping to the floor of the warehouse.  
  
"That's good." He nodded, opening up the case that held the tactical gear Catherine had been using.  
  
"You take the good, you take the bad, but most of all, you take the bad..." Catherine muttered.  
  
"What's that from?" Sark asked, as Catherine began to climb up the ladder to get the rope.  
  
"Some American sitcom, I think." She called down.  
  
"It's a shame that you can't sprint up a ladder..." Sark began.  
  
"Why?" Catherine asked, glancing down at him.  
  
"I would really like to get some sleep tonight." He replied.  
  
Catherine chuckled. "That's nice. But, you can't sleep until I can sleep, and let me tell you... we are no where near done with this little alien facade."  
  
"How much more could we possible have to do?" Sark whined. "You've checked the accessibility at least a bazillion times, and there's no paper work to fill out... what more could you possible have to do?"  
  
"Coming down!" Catherine called, dropping the rope. Climbing back down the ladder, she responded, "I've got to do a system's check. You know that, don't be stupid. Also, I have to make sure that our story is believable. It was hard enough getting the supernatural activity in the parking garage to work and be accepted... imagine how much work I'm going to have to do for the return."  
  
"We're returning her?" Sark asked, coiling the rope up and throwing it in the case.  
  
"Depends" Catherine shrugged. "We'll see how I feel when the time comes. The joy is in the hunt, you know."  
  
"No, I don't. What are you driving at?" Sark asked.  
  
Catherine grinned, "You'll see, dear, you'll see." Taking the case from Sark, she headed off down one of the tunnels, leaving the disc exposed without any sort of precautionary measure surrounding it.  
  
"I don't know where on earth you're going!" He exclaimed. The remark was said to thin air, for Catherine had already disappeared down the maze of tunnels.  
  
"Oh man!" Sark muttered, "Now I've got to find her!"  
  
"Catherine, wait up!" He called, running into the tunnel. 


	14. Prepay Prep

Disclaimer: Do you own ALIAS? Because, if you do, then, I don't (Well, I don't anyway, but it's nice to pretend)  
  
Weiss had slept a good twelve hours between the plane being delayed and the flight to Moscow. Vaughn had gotten a mediocre two.  
  
"When stuff gets delayed, you should sleep." Weiss remarked.  
  
"Why?" Vaughn asked, "Got any twos?" They were playing cards.  
  
"Go Fish." Weiss replied, "Because, it gives you a chance to catch up on some much needed shut eye. This job doesn't exactly let you have a four hour work day."  
  
"You're move." Vaughn said. "Yeah, but I would miss out on stuff if I slept. You could sleep your life away, like that Ripple Van Wincey guy."  
  
"Rip Van Wrinkle?" Weiss suggested.  
  
"Yeah, him!" Vaughn exclaimed, nodding.  
  
Weiss sighed. "I think he was put under a spell... don't tell me you've never read the book."  
  
"Nope, never" Vaughn nodded in agreement.  
  
Weiss sighed again. "Got any fives?" He asked.  
  
"Darn you!" Vaughn exclaimed, handing Weiss a five of clubs.  
  
"I'm out." Weiss told him, laying the pair down.  
  
"Never play go fish on cinco de mayo." Vaughn said, pointing a finger at Weiss.  
  
"It's not may fifth." Weiss remarked. "It's actually the middle of April..."  
  
"So what?" Vaughn asked. "You should still never play go fish on cinco de mayo."  
  
"That's a moot point." Weiss replied.  
  
"Mute? A mute point?! Are you telling me to shut up?!" Vaughn asked, outraged.  
  
"No, moot, not mute! M-O-O-T, moot!" Weiss explained.  
  
"Oh, never mind then." Vaughn shrugged, settling down.  
  
"You really are the crème de la crème, aren't you?" Weiss asked, shaking his head.  
  
"The cream de la cream? What is cream of the cream mean? Does that mean, you know, I do *it* a lot?" Vaughn questioned.  
  
"Not cream of the cream! Crème de la crème! Cream of the crop!" Weiss exclaimed. "And no, cream of the cream does not mean you do *it* a lot."  
  
"Woo!" Vaughn exclaimed, "I was gettin' worried there for a second, man. I didn't want you to think that my bee was, like, working overtime or nothing!"  
  
"You were like? Oh my. You are just as bad as half of the cheerleading squad in high school." Weiss shook his head.  
  
"Whoa man! I am SO not a prepay prep!" Vaughn exclaimed.  
  
Weiss stared at him.  
  
"I mean, OMG, like, how can you think that?!?!" Vaughn asked.  
  
"Maybe you're controversial..." Weiss suggested.  
  
"Excuse me? Did you just call me what I think you just called me?" Vaughn asked.  
  
"Hold on, now! I'm just saying..." Weiss began.  
  
"I so do not swing that way!" Vaughn exclaimed. "Talk to the left, because you ain't right!" Vaughn stuck his left palm in Weiss' face after the last remark.  
  
"You are so a prepay prep." Weiss remarked. 


	15. Desks Against Far Walls

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS. I do, however, own Catherine.  
  
A/N: I reloaded Chapter 13 with some new info, so check that out (it's a pretty good cliffhanger set –up)  
  
Sark walked cautiously through the tunnels. He had seen some of the map, but never really studied it.  
  
"Catherine? You down here?" He called out, using the wall as a guide. The tunnels were dark, with only small slits of light through triple reinforced vents.  
  
Sark came across a door that was slightly ajar, with bright florescent light flowing out from the crack.  
  
"Catherine?" He asked again, hoping she was in there, and not someone who had infiltrated the warehouse.  
  
"You know..." A female voice floated from the room out into the tunnel.  
  
"Catherine?" Sark asked, opening the door slightly.  
  
She motioned for him to come in. "I'm here." She replied. "Just wondering how long it would take you to find me."  
  
"It would be faster if you wouldn't run off like you did." Sark crossly remarked.  
  
"Sorry." She shrugged.  
  
While there was a pause in the conversation, Sark finally surveyed the room Catherine had chosen to hide out in.  
  
There were two rows of lights that illuminated every corner, a desk pushed up against the far wall, which Catherine was hovering over, and tactical gear littered the white, tiled floor.  
  
"Are there other rooms like this?" Sark asked.  
  
Catherine looked up from the desk at him. Sighing and shaking her head, she replied, "You really didn't study the map."  
  
"I didn't think I would need to. There was never really a reason for me to look at it." Sark shrugged.  
  
"Then I guess you don't know me very well." Catherine grinned.  
  
Out in the main storage room where the disc was, a muted thump of boots on an aluminum floor could be heard. 


	16. Shimmy!

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS. I own Catherine.  
  
Vaughn's feet hit the floor, sending shock waves up throughout his body. Motioning for Weiss to follow, he silently headed towards the edge of the balcony. The two men glanced over the railing. Weiss spotted the disc first. Pointing it out to Vaughn, he began to set up the rope that Vaughn would be using to repel down the side of the wall and onto the floor.  
  
"I wonder why it's out in the open like that..." Weiss thought.  
  
Vaughn tied himself to the rope, and prepared to jump over the railing. He stopped, though, when he heard voices coming from a remote corner of the room below.  
  
Weiss hurried to untie the rope from the bar, as Vaughn searched frantically for a place for them to hide.  
  
Down below, Catherine and Sark headed out to the main warehouse floor, just as Weiss and Vaughn jumped behind a crate.  
  
"Shut up!" Catherine exclaimed.  
  
"Why?" Sark asked.  
  
"Because! I cannot believe you are considered the crème de la crème." She replied.  
  
"What are they talking about?" Vaughn mouthed to Weiss, who shrugged in response.  
  
"Who says that I'm the crème de la crème?" Sark asked.  
  
"Good question. Julian!" She exclaimed.  
  
"What?" Sark defensively asked.  
  
"You left the disc without any sort of precautionary measure around it!" She replied.  
  
Weiss and Vaughn cursed under their breath.  
  
"Why is that MY fault?! If I remember correctly, YOU were the one that stormed off, not me!" Sark exclaimed.  
  
"I DID NOT STORM OFF!" Catherine yelled.  
  
"You did to!"  
  
"Liar!"  
  
"I am not! I'm just telling you the truth, dear."  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"I hate you!"  
  
"How old are you, Julian?"  
  
"None of your business"  
  
Down below, Catherine switched on the lasers.  
  
"Come on, you big baby, we've got to go and work on the *explicit* GPS." She ordered, snapping her fingers and heading off down the tunnel they had exited minutes earlier.  
  
"I still hate you" Sark muttered, following her like a dog on a leash.  
  
When Weiss and Vaughn could no longer hear voices, they cautiously crawled out from behind the crate.  
  
"I told you it was the Covenant." Weiss hissed, retying the rope to the railing.  
  
"They could be working for the aliens." Vaughn indignantly pouted.  
  
Weiss laughed. "Just tie yourself to the rope, and shimmy down it, and get the disc."  
  
Vaughn, after sticking his tongue out at Weiss, reluctantly tied himself to the rope, and had a foot over the railing before... 


	17. Coffee, Tea, or Me, Sir?

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS. I do own Catherine. I do not own the "Coffee, Tea, or Me, sir" line... someone else said it.  
  
Catherine was getting sick of the warehouse, and was getting rather annoyed with Sark. So, she sent him out to watch the disc.  
  
"Finally, I get some peace and quiet!" She thought, sitting down on top of the desk and retrieving her laptop from its case.  
  
Waiting for it to turn on, she laid her head against the wall, and closed her eyes. When the computer beeped, she woke from her trance and began to log in. Out in the huge storage room, Sark sat slumped against one of the walls. He was napping, and therefore did not see Vaughn's foot go over the railing, or him hastily pulling it back over.  
  
"Sark!" Catherine called from the side room.  
  
Her accomplice did not reply, so Catherine headed out to the main room.  
  
"Julian... Julian!" She called, coming out into the vast, nearly-empty room.  
  
Sark finally awoke from his nap, and quickly stood up, brushing off imaginary dust from his clothes.  
  
"Yes, Catherine?" He asked, coming up right beside her.  
  
"I was just making sure that you weren't napping or anything." Catherine replied.  
  
"Well, you know..." Sark vaguely began.  
  
Catherine gave him a sideways glance. Down in the side room, where all of the tactical gear and Catherine's laptop were, a cell phone began to ring. The sound of Carmen drifted throughout the hallways.  
  
Sark held back a laugh, as Catherine sprinted off down the hallway to answer the phone.  
  
After she was out of sight, Sark started walking leisurely down the hall.  
  
Catherine came back out of the room, the phone still in her hand, and started when she saw Sark.  
  
A wicked grin, which he couldn't see, came across her face. Walking up to him, her smile became more generic and forced, and she asked, "Coffee, tea, or me, sir?"  
  
Sark took a moment to respond before saying, "I was always partial to tea..."  
  
Catherine stuck her tongue out at him, and then proceeded to head back into the room.  
  
Sark shrugged, and followed her in. 


	18. He's WHIPPED!

Disclaimer: I do not own... ALIAS, sigh.  
  
Vaughn cursed under his breath. The job was getting harder, mostly because Catherine and Sark kept filtering in and out of the warehouse room.  
  
Vaughn quickly tied the rope to the railing, jerking the string around in his frustration.  
  
Weiss scanned the room, searching for a way out once on the ground floor.  
  
"Once you hit ground, there's a small opening that can be easily hidden by those stray boxes down by the tunnel opening. I don't think Catherine will notice, and I KNOW that Sark won't." He said, indicating what he was talking about.  
  
"What makes you think that Sark won't notice?" Vaughn asked, getting ready to go down to the warehouse floor.  
  
"She's got him WHIPPED, bad. It's pathetic. You didn't notice?" Weiss questioned, surprised.  
  
"Nope" Vaughn replied, heading down the side wall.  
  
Conversation was halted for fear of being heard, and Vaughn made it down the wall rather quickly.  
  
As he headed across the floor, letting Weiss pull the rope up, Vaughn began to try and figure out how to get the disc without setting off the alarm.  
  
Weiss, using coms, began to whistle a song Vaughn wasn't familiar with.  
  
"Would you stop?!" Vaughn hissed, a few feet away from the disc.  
  
"Nope" Weiss replied. "If you get to do all of the fun stuff, I get to whistle Evanescence."  
  
"Whatever you say..." Vaughn said, his hand snaking around the beams. His fingers were within grasp of the disc, when someone else's whistling could be heard from the tunnel.  
  
Vaughn cursed, grabbed the disc, tripping off the alarms, and then began to scramble up the ladder.  
  
"Hurry up!" Weiss called, popping the window open that they had used to get into the building in the first place. Vaughn was almost onto the ledge when a bullet whipped passed his ear, and slammed into the metal wall. Vaughn quickened his pace up the ladder, and reached the ledge just in time to hear a feminine voice, complete with a British accent.  
  
Vaughn's head whipped around, and what he saw would change the way the rest of the mission would go. 


	19. Lauren Reenters

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS. I do, however, own Catherine. I do not own the concept of the Manhattan Once-Over. I read it in Shopoholic Takes Manhattan (which I highly recommend, unless you are biased to British humor...)  
  
Catherine and Sark were in the midst of running through a system check when Lauren had slid down the escape hatch.  
  
Sark had barely glanced up at her, because he was in the midst of checking the system.  
  
Catherine, on the other hand, had stopped what she was doing, and was giving Lauren the Manhattan Once-Over. Lauren was giving Catherine the same courtesy. The two were rivals, and the only reason that they had agreed to help one another was because Catherine had decided to make a Stalin-esq move, and put aside her political differences for the sake of the greater cause. (A/N: See: World War II and the way Communist Russia and Democratic America got along to defeat Germany. Catherine would make the reference to Stalin as opposed to FDR or Truman, because she is Russian. Can you tell I have a history final coming up?)  
  
Sark coughed to break the silence, and Catherine regained her in controlling demeanor.  
  
"Bit... Lauren, be a dear and go check on the disc, please." Catherine ordered.  
  
Lauren shrugged. "Whatever you say, who... Catherine."  
  
Thus, Lauren headed off down the tunnel, whistling "God Save the Queen."  
  
Sark hit the button that would test the alarm, and was pleased with his accomplishment when it went off.  
  
Suddenly, there was a gun shot, causing Catherine to whip out her own gun, and take off down the hall.  
  
"Mr. Vaughn." Lauren was saying as Catherine reached the end of the hall.  
  
"What in the..." Catherine thought. "How did the CIA manage to get here so, QUICK?"  
  
Sark had followed her down the hall, grabbing a gun on his way out of the room.  
  
"I say we let Lauren deal with it." He remarked.  
  
"No." Catherine snapped, stepping into the main warehouse storeroom.  
  
Lauren was staring at an open window, and no one was around.  
  
"Why'd you let them leave?" Catherine asked, running over to the ladder and beginning to climb up it.  
  
"He didn't say anything." She muttered. "Nothing at all" 


	20. Malarky!

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS or South Park  
  
Vaughn sat slumped against the chair in the plane. He and Weiss were heading back to Los Angeles, victorious, with the disc in their position, but... it just wasn't what he wanted.  
  
"Why must you CONSTANTLY be a 100% bonafide manic depressant?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Excuse me? A bonafide manic depressant? Have you taken a page out of that stupid Brit's book?" Vaughn questioned.  
  
"By 'stupid Brit,' do you mean Sark or Lauren? Because, you know that Catherine is Russian." Weiss replied.  
  
"I didn't know that." Vaughn muttered, slumping farther down in his seat.  
  
"Besides, I highly doubt that Catherine calls Sark, or Lauren, a bonafide manic depressant... more like a bonafide idiot, or a bonafide numbskull, or a bonafide moron, or a bona..." Weiss hypothesized.  
  
"OK! I get the picture! And Lauren isn't dumb!" Vaughn defended.  
  
"Nope, I suppose not. Just you, then..." Weiss teased.  
  
"Shut... the... monkey... behind... up." Vaughn ordered,  
  
"How long did it take you to come up with THAT?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Not as long as it took me to do your momma!" Vaughn snapped.  
  
"That is so inappropriate. You are most defiantly going to get jumped." Weiss replied.  
  
"And what you just did... was really, 100%, bonafide..." Vaughn's voice became a whisper, "gay."  
  
"And what you just did... was really, 100%, bonafide..." Weiss mocked, "dim- witted"  
  
"Cut the malarkey!" Vaughn ordered.  
  
"Oh, cut the phony 'I'm-better-than-you-because-I'm-blonde' act. It doesn't work for Sark, AND IT WON'T WORK FOR YOU!!" Weiss exclaimed.  
  
People had begun to stare. "They must be a couple!" One woman remarked to her husband.  
  
"Let's get off this ship!" Vaughn hissed, getting up from his seat.  
  
"Ship? We're in a mother flipping plane!" Weiss exclaimed.  
  
The same woman from early snapped at Weiss, "Watch your language, there are children on board!"  
  
"I'm sure they watch South Park like every other child in America." Weiss muttered.  
  
At that, half of the children on the plane shouted, "TIMMAH!"  
  
"Told you" Weiss sung, beginning to try to catch up to Vaughn. 


	21. The Plot Unfolds

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS, the Catholic Church, the Anglican Church, or the Russian Orthodox Church. I do, however, own Catherine and would appreciate a heads up if you are going to steal her... (Although, why would you?)  
  
"That was a real brilliant career move, Reed." Catherine scoffed, slamming her gun down on one of the hard metal tables.  
  
"For some reason, I don't think she cares." Sark commented, leaning against the far wall.  
  
"And for some reason, I don't think you should be talking right now." Catherine snapped.  
  
"I'm sure he'll take that under advisement." Lauren remarked, turning to face Catherine.  
  
"Thanks for your input." Catherine sarcastically replied.  
  
"Look, the disc was corrupted anyway, so why does it matter if the CIA has it?" Sark asked. "Last time I checked, the objective of this side mission was to let them have the disc."  
  
"Side mission? You're on a SIDE MISSION?!" Lauren hysterically yelled.  
  
"Um, yeah?" Sark meekly replied.  
  
"You're on a bloody side mission and you're CHEWING ME OUT?! Damn you! Damn you to BLOODY CATHOLIC HELL!" Lauren exclaimed.  
  
"I'm Russian Orthodox; I don't care about your bloody Anglican hell." Catherine replied.  
  
"I said Catholic, not Anglican." Lauren corrected.  
  
"But... England isn't Catholic." Sark interrupted.  
  
"Do I look like I give a damn?" Lauren asked, whirling around to face him.  
  
"No, but, you should. The only way you're going to win an argument against Catherine is if you have all of your facts and then some straight. One minor slip-up and, BAM!, you lose." Sark replied.  
  
"Shut up" Catherine and Lauren ordered simultaneously.  
  
"Love you, too." Sark muttered, heading off down the corridor.  
  
"So, if this is a side mission, what's the real one?" Lauren asked once Sark was gone.  
  
"We're working with a group of aliens in Sector 47, the Manioc's. The Covenant intercepted some Area 51 communications from a very hostile extraterrestrial species. The only thing that would stop them from attacking and destroying the planet is the delivery of a particular human. Of course, the U.S. government didn't believe the aliens, so, Cole made the call and sent us to procure this individual." Catherine explained.  
  
"The individual being Sydney Bristow. But, why would we step in and not send the world to its immediate doom?" Lauren asked.  
  
"Stupid question. Do you have a desire to die at the hands of some preventable force?" Catherine questioned.  
  
"No... and neither does Cole." Lauren replied. "Now that you've explained Bristow's kidnapping, what about this whole get up with a floppy?"  
  
"The CIA is naturally going to try and find their best field agent. So, we had to try and throw them off." Catherine told her.  
  
"Does Sark know?" Lauren asked.  
  
"Know what?" Catherine questioned. "Does he know the mission details? No. Does he know about the Maniocs? No. Do I really care? No."  
  
"Nice to know you give out as much information as possible." Lauren muttered.  
  
"Sark is on a need to know basis. He doesn't need to know all of this." Catherine replied.  
  
"And me?" Lauren asked.  
  
"You're out of the picture." Catherine smirked, pulling out a hidden gun and shooting the other woman in the head.  
  
"Horrible way to die" Sark commented.  
  
"Come, love. We have to get out of here before the CIA comes back full force." Catherine told him.  
  
"As you wish, my dear, as you wish." Sark replied. 


	22. Flashback Central

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS, or Delta, or Area 51, or George Bush (U.S. President...) thanks for asking, though.  
  
"Michael!" Weiss exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah?" Vaughn asked.  
  
"This is insane! Look, I know that we're on a Delta flight, and the pilots are horribly lousy, but you DON'T need to jump off! Just think about what will happen when you open that door! The air will come rushing in... you know, like that episode when Sydney has to access server 47 on the plane, and the only way to get off is to blast open the window, and then everything goes rushing out... and then we're all afraid that she's going to die because we think she might hit the fan-thingy, and... wait, wasn't there an Area 51 transmission about some Aliens from a sector 47? I wonder if we did anything about that..." Weiss pondered.  
  
"Why would we do something about that? Think about it for a minute, we don't deal with 'aliens.' We deal with TERRORISTS. The two are completely unrelated." Vaughn replied.  
  
"Unless, of course, there are such things as terrorist aliens" Weiss mused.  
  
"Yeah right" Vaughn laughed. "Good one."  
  
"Come on, let's just go sit down and enjoy the flight." Weiss suggested.  
  
"Good idea." Vaughn agreed.  
  
Three hours later...  
  
"Welcome back." Dixon greeted.  
  
"Glad to be back. Say, you wouldn't happen to know anything about that Area 51 transmission we ignored, would you?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Why would I have a transmission we ignored?" Dixon questioned. "That's an idiotic question, Eric."  
  
"Well, you know, I was just thinking... everything that we've ever done has required some sort of dealing with the number 47, and these aliens... well, it was just an obscure coincidence, I guess." Shrugged Weiss "Never mind; I have a report to write up, anyway."  
  
Area 51, Sometime last month...  
  
"Sir, we just received an extraterrestrial transmission from sector 47. The... Maniocs, I believe." A desk officer, Alex Meson, informed his superior, Corporal Mokena.  
  
"Are they hostile?" Mokena asked.  
  
"Um... it says here in a preliminary report that they become hostile only when demands are not met." Alex replied.  
  
"What are they asking for?"  
  
"A CIA agent... Miss Sydney Bristow."  
  
Mokena scoffed. "Ignore it... I highly doubt this is a serious request. Probably the White House again. Bush does have a tendency to play practical jokes. That strange Texas humor I suppose."  
  
Alex placed the transmission in the Maniocs' folder, and then pulled out a cell phone. Checking to make sure that it had an anti-bugging device implanted, he punched in a number.  
  
"Cole speaking" The reply came after several rings.  
  
"This is Agent Meson, with Area 51." Alex informed Cole.  
  
"Okay. Did something interesting come up?" Cole asked.  
  
"A transmission from an alien group on sector 47; They want Miss Bristow, or they claim that they are going to destroy the earth. Preliminary theses state that when this group does not get what they want, they will follow through on their threats." Alex replied.  
  
"Thanks for the call; I'll put someone on it right away." Cole informed him. After that, the line went dead.  
  
Covenant Headquarters; Shortly after Meson's call...  
  
"You're in luck, Miss Rossakoff." Cole said, turning his back on the phone.  
  
"Am I now?" Catherine asked. "I do believe the last time that you told me that, I nearly got ten pounds of lead pumped into my body."  
  
"It's not my fault Julian is an idiot. Besides, you ticked him off." Cole reminded her.  
  
"Next time you tick me off, is it all right if I pump ten pounds of lead into you?" Catherine questioned.  
  
"No, love, not at all. Besides, you're running point this time. He'll answer to you. And, I want Lauren Reed dead." Cole replied.  
  
"Seems completely unrelated."  
  
"It is, on the surface. I'm sending her to work with you on a side mission. I would like you to tell her what's going on, and then shoot her. That shouldn't be too hard now, should it? We all know the two of you hate each other."  
  
"So we do. But, what about Julian?"  
  
"I don't care what you tell him... in my opinion, though, I would place him on a need-to-know basis. That way, he's less likely to shoot you and then run off."  
  
"Lovely sentiment..."  
  
"Isn't it, though?"  
  
"If you don't mind my asking, why do you want Lauren dead?"  
  
"I personally hate the bitch. But, then again, my orders were to have you kill her, so..."  
  
"Oh. Joy and half."  
  
"Thanks! I'll be the joy."  
  
"Good bye, Cole."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Joint Task Force Headquarters; Present...  
  
"I think we're missing something." Jack remarked. They were in the briefing room, waiting for Marshall to tell them what was on the disk. 


	23. Bloody Blonde Brits

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS.  
  
Catherine quietly shut the hotel door behind her. She and Sark had returned to Los Angeles to finish up some things before meeting the Maniocs in Nevada.  
  
"Hey, can I ask you something?" Sark questioned, muting the TV.  
  
"Go ahead, love, we're almost done with everything anyway." Catherine replied, swiping the remote off of the coffee table.  
  
"Why exactly did you kill Lauren?"  
  
"What kind of a question is THAT? Do you really want her alive?"  
  
"No, not really, it's just that, well... it seemed so, sudden."  
  
"You mean, unexpected, like a surprise attack, sort of if she didn't see it coming?"  
  
"Um, well, yeah."  
  
"Love, that's the idea behind an assassination."  
  
"I know that!"  
  
"Then why ask?!"  
  
"Because I, um, could, I suppose?"  
  
"Julian, go to bed. It's been a long day, and you aren't making any sense."  
  
"If you say so..."  
  
"I say so. Goodnight, love."  
  
"Night"  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---  
  
Next morning, Covenant Headquarters (LA)...  
  
Catherine was busy typing up a mission summary when the funky red light that signified an intruder went off. The office was suddenly full of people running like chickens with their heads cut off. Pulling out a gun from the top desk drawer, Catherine maneuvered her way through the confused masses, and pulled up short of the main hall.  
  
A familiar looking blonde was making her way up the hall, a gun poised ready in her right hand.  
  
Catherine did a double take, to confirm it was Lauren. Making sure her gun was loaded; Catherine created a plan in her mind before making her first move. Turning sharply into the hall, and firing a quick shot before ducking back behind the wall, possible scenarios as to why Lauren was still alive ran through her head. Whilst contemplating, she was unaware of the blonde coming up upon her until a gun was at her head.  
  
"How are you this morning, Catherine?" Lauren smugly asked, "Well enough to dance, I hope."  
  
"I'll feel better if you tell me how you survived." Catherine replied.  
  
"Well, that's a simple one. Bullet proof vest love" Lauren explained, "Now, drop the gun."  
  
Catherine sighed, but tossed the gun down the hall.  
  
"Why ever would you do that?" Lauren questioned, removing her own gun slightly.  
  
"To do this" Catherine replied, swinging her leg around and kicking Lauren squarely in the chest. As Lauren doubled over slightly, Catherine wrenched the gun out of her hands.  
  
Lauren then did a round-about kick, knocking the gun away from both of them.  
  
"Why ever would you do that?" Catherine mocking asked, complete with a British accent.  
  
"To do this" Lauren replied, slamming Catherine against the wall.  
  
"Did you really want to do that?" Catherine asked, kneeing Lauren, who released her hold on Catherine.  
  
"Yes, yes I did." Lauren replied, her right hand shooting out and grabbing Catherine around the neck, followed shortly by the other.  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Catherine managed to gasp out, grabbing Lauren by the wrists and throwing her down on the floor.  
  
"I wouldn't kill me if I were you." Lauren remarked, a hint of desperation in her voice.  
  
"Of course not. I wouldn't kill me if I were you, either." Catherine replied, kicking Lauren's side then jumping over her body, landing on her right hand and grounding it into the floor. Why Lauren screamed in pain, Catherine ran over and grabbed the nearest gun, Lauren's.  
  
"Now, for your grand exit, m'dear" Catherine smirked, raising the gun. As she fired the first bullet, Lauren scrambled away, and headed down the hall.  
  
"Maybe you'll have better luck next time, you stupid Russian bitch!" Lauren yelled from halfway down the hall. Catherine exhaled, and followed the retreating blonde.  
  
"You can run, Bloody Brit, but you can't hide. At least, not for too long, anyway" Catherine assured her, turning down a side hall/  
  
"If you find me, I'll give you a free piercing." Lauren promised, her voice bouncing off the walls. "That is the latest fad over in the USSR, isn't it?"  
  
Catherine laughed. "Russia and the Soviet Union are two different things. If you actually went to class instead of sleeping with your professors, you would know that."  
  
"No one said there was any sleeping involved." Lauren replied.  
  
Catherine turned down another side hall. "You know, this game is getting rather old. Why don't you just show yourself and stop running like a coward?" Catherine asked. "I'm beginning to think you're French."  
  
"You know, the Russian's aren't known for their intelligent military strategy. If I remember correctly, the Russian armies always had many more causalities." Lauren responded.  
  
"It only seems like we had more deaths because of our far superior numbers." Catherine said, heading into a stairwell.  
  
"Far superior?" Lauren questioned.  
  
"That's what I said." Catherine agreed, heading up a flight.  
  
"If that was the case, then why does the UN refuse to accept Russia into their ranks?" Lauren asked.  
  
"Because they think we're Commies." Catherine stated matter-of-factly, walking into a large room that housed the corporate offices of the Covenant's LA branch.  
  
"Are you?" Lauren inquired.  
  
"Not in the slightest." Catherine replied, weaving through the cubicle maze.  
  
"Oh? That surprises me." Lauren said.  
  
"Give it up. Come out before I blow the whole building up." Catherine ordered, pausing at the entrance to the main hall.  
  
"You wouldn't blow up the building. Cole would kill you." Lauren replied.  
  
"Maybe, but that's a risk I'll have to take." Catherine told her, turning around to backtrack.  
  
Suddenly, two shots rang out. Catherine whirled around, only to see a large metal door slam down in her face.  
  
"Damn it!" She yelled, running over to a keypad on the wall. Punching in the code that would raise the door, Catherine was caught off guard by a foot slamming into her side.  
  
"Gotcha" Lauren smirked, pointing a gun in her opponent's face.  
  
"Who the hell are you working with?" Catherine asked.  
  
"You'll never guess." Lauren replied. "The last person you ever thought would betray you."  
  
"My brother?" Catherine guessed. 


	24. CIA Banter and Mysterious Voices

Disclaimer: I don't own ALIAS or the H2 (Hummer: giant SUV thing that is a menace on the road)  
  
A/N: Bet you love the cliffhanger! Say you love it, or else I will maintain pointless CIA banter sessions! Mau ha, ha, ha, ha, HA! Okay, I lie. I hate pointless CIA banter... less talk, more action! (Insert Sydney kicking evil terrorist butt sound effect here)  
  
Marshall rushed into the briefing room.  
  
"We... have... a problem." He gasped out.  
  
"What?" Dixon asked, concerned.  
  
"All of the files on the main network, everything, the hard drive, software, all of it, is being erased." Marshall replied.  
  
"Hate to say it, but..." Jack trailed off.  
  
"You told us so!" The group snapped at him.  
  
"Who am I to deny the truth?" Jack questioned.  
  
"Oh shut up!" Vaughn ordered.  
  
Dixon rolled his eyes. "Marshall, is there anything that we can do about this system failure?" He asked.  
  
"Well, it could take anywhere from twenty four hours to twenty four days... I mean, I've got to figure out where the error was and then use backup codes and back entrances..." Marshall replied.  
  
"Then get started!" Dixon snapped, cutting him off.  
  
"Yes, sir, right away." Marshall replied, running out of the briefing room.  
  
"Maybe it's the work of an evil alien force." Weiss muttered.  
  
"It could be." Vaughn agreed.  
  
It was Weiss' turn to roll his eyes. "Or maybe it's the Covenant... or that incredibly sexy Lauren Reed..."  
  
"My wife, thank you very much!" Vaughn harrumphed. (A/N: Can you believe that's actually a word?)  
  
"You're welcome." Weiss replied.  
  
"Would the two of you stop bantering like lovers? I don't think that this is some stupid foreign film. I mean, just because none of the terrorists we actually fight are American, that doesn't mean you can adopt their culture. It would be ten times easier and a whole lot more honest and trustworthy to maintain the culture of vintage Americana, where no one smoked, drank, or even had sex!" Some random intern dude remarked.  
  
"If vintage Americana didn't have sex, then how did a nerd like you come into existence?" Vaughn asked.  
  
"Science" The intern replied.  
  
"Whatever." Vaughn scoffed.  
  
"ANYWAY!" Dixon yelled, "Since we are completely technology-less, then we're going to have to resort to the old fashion way of doing things- random, pointless, intel gathering missions. You know, pictures, typewriters, all of that stuff."  
  
"There's your vintage Americana." Jack remarked.  
  
"What-ever," The intern dude sneered.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---  
  
Two hours later, Moscow...  
  
Vaughn shifted positions. He had been watching a supposed Covenant strong hold for the past half hour.  
  
"I don't think this is going to work." He told Weiss, who was listening in on a microphone.  
  
"Why do you say that?" Weiss asked; who happened to be miles away in a H2.  
  
"No one's coming in, I'm tired of this place, and every joint in my body aches." Vaughn replied, "Explain to me again why we're here?"  
  
"We think that maybe Syd's here, or at least, Catherine." Weiss explained.  
  
"Can we just accept the fact that maybe they outsmarted us?" An unfamiliar voice questioned over the mike.  
  
"Michael?"  
  
"Eric?"  
  
"Nope. Wrong again. You would be. Don't worry, though, it will all be over soon." The mysterious voice gave way to static.  
  
"I wonder what that was all about." Vaughn pondered aloud.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---  
  
Inside Covenant Moscow Operations Building, same time...  
  
Amanda Meson, Alex Meson's twin sister, took off her headset.  
  
"Do you think it worked?" She asked her superior, Dominic Nervesky.  
  
"It better of" He replied. "If it didn't, then we're going to have to eliminate them."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---  
  
Outskirts of woods surrounding Moscow Building...  
  
"Weiss, I'm coming in. This is freaking me out, and we haven't seen anything. I don't think that they would take her someplace so obvious." Vaughn reasoned.  
  
"Sounds fine to me, come on back." Weiss agreed, starting up the car. 


	25. Lauren's Last Stand

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS.  
  
"You have a brother?" Lauren asked, her mouth dropping, along with the gun in Catherine's face.  
  
Catherine smirked. Kneeing Lauren in the chest and swiping the gun from her hand, Catherine cornered the stunned blonde in a cubicle.  
  
"You are working with him, aren't you?" Catherine innocently asked.  
  
"No!" Lauren protested. "I was going to say Sark..."  
  
"Oh yes, he's such a great partner." Catherine replied, rolling his eyes.  
  
This time, Lauren smirked. "You've obviously never slept with him then."  
  
"No. I have higher standards than you. And him, for that matter." Catherine replied. "Besides, if you were married to Vaughn and slept with Sark, then..."  
  
"Um, Sark and I aren't exactly Mother Teresa." Lauren reminded her.  
  
"Very true. Mother Teresa DEFINATLY had higher standards than the two of you." Catherine replied. "Now, how about we stop this little chat and get on with your death sentence?"  
  
"How about not?" Lauren asked. "You really don't want to kill me, you know."  
  
"I don't see why not. I mean, you're this ugly, blonde tramp, who screws any guy she comes across, and you have about as much style as a rotten tomato." Catherine replied. "Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you?"  
  
"Because you're no better than me" Lauren retorted.  
  
"Nope, not helping; that's actually a reason for me TO kill you." Catherine replied.  
  
"You secretly like the British?" Lauren guessed.  
  
Catherine laughed, "Yes, I secretly like the British. Do you prefer fried or grilled?"  
  
"You cannibal!" Lauren exclaimed.  
  
"Lauren, if you were to look in a Thesaurus under 'gullible idiot,' you would find an 8 ½ by 11 picture of your disgusting mug." Catherine replied.  
  
"I think that the only reason you do this is because it makes you feel better about yourself. You have low self-esteem, don't you?" Lauren questioned.  
  
"Like you have good figure" Catherine replied.  
  
"Then you're saying its true! You do have a low self-esteem!" Lauren exclaimed.  
  
"You really are as dumb as you look, aren't you?" Catherine asked.  
  
"No, love, you're as dumb as I look." Lauren replied.  
  
"Now you're just trying to buy time." Catherine scoffed.  
  
"I think you might secretly want me." Lauren remarked.  
  
"Yes, you're absolutely right. I secretly want you... dead." Catherine replied. "Now, say your final goodbyes, and take your last breath."  
  
"See you in hell." Lauren replied, as Catherine shot her in the forehead.  
  
"Did you really have to kill her like _that_?" Sark asked.  
  
"She should have known that I don't like to dance." Catherine replied, turning to face him. "Now, I guess the question is, was she telling the truth?" 


	26. Trojans and Revelations

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS.

A/N: Wahoo! A new chapter... not that anyone is reading this story anymore... tears.

"Whadda ya mean, 'was she telling the truth'? It _is Lauren _we're talking about." Sark said, backing up, his hands raised.

"Were you working with her?" Catherine asked.

"No! I wouldn't work with _her!_" Sark exclaimed.

"Okay then. Let's get out of here before someone thinks that we tore up the place..." Catherine said, heading to the elevator.

Sark stared at her in disbelief. "But you _did_ tear the place up. You and Lauren" He said.

"Whilst I am well aware of that, maybe we'll get lucky and they won't find out and make me pay for it." Catherine replied.

"You were just doing your job." Sark mused, as he was grabbed and shoved into the elevator.

--

"You have GOT to be bullshitting me! She's my _sister?!_ Who are you trying to kid?" Amanda Meson asked.

Dominic Nervesky stared at her over the memo he was reading. "No one; I'm telling you the truth." He replied.

"She can't be my sister. My sister's name was Vera." Amanda scoffed.

"And your name is really Amanda?" Nervesky asked.

Amanda blushed. "But it can't be true... She would've told me!"

"Are you so sure?" Nervesky asked.

Amanda had no reply to that.

(A/N: Confused? Go back a few chapters... towards the beginning)

--

Vaughn sighed. He was sick of "roughing it" in terms of technology. Right now, he was sweating in the near-powerless (except for one generator for the lights) Joint Task Force rotunda.

"You'd think that the Central _Intelligence_ Agency would be better prepared than they are!" Vaughn exclaimed, exasperated.

"You'd also think that tap water was blue, but does it LOOK blue?! Oh no! It _has_ no definite color!" Weiss replied.

"How is that even related?" Vaughn asked, loosing his tie.

"Oh, I thought we were complaining about pointless things..." Weiss muttered, using a memo to fan himself.

"You are such a sarcastic pig." Vaughn said.

"And you're an idiotic jerk." Weiss replied.

"Ladies, please, stop this pettiness. If we're going to save the world and whatnot, we need to work together." Jack told them. He was probably the only agent still fully dressed.

"You're insane, man. How do you not sweat?!" Weiss asked in disbelief.

"I got my sweat glands removed at an early age." Jack replied without missing a beat.

"Jinkies!" Marshall exclaimed.

"What is it?" Vaughn asked, sitting up, suddenly refreshed.

"It's a Trojan Whore!" Marshall replied.

"What?!" Weiss asked, getting up and going over to Marshall's desk.

"I mean horse, a Trojan Horse. But it was given to us by a whore." Marshall replied.

"Oh! So a Trojan Horse is like an STD for computers!" Vaughn exclaimed.

"Yes; and this computer would like to compare its STD's to yours, Vaughn." Weiss said.

"Oh whatever! So, tell me more about this whore..." Vaughn said.

"Well, by the make and model, I'd say it was Russian." Marshall muttered.

"Rushin'? Why would a whore rush?" Vaughn asked.

"Especially if they're paid by the hour" Weiss remarked, rolling his eyes.

"Exactly!" Vaughn agreed.

Jack sighed. "Are you dense by nature?" He asked Vaughn.

"What?" Was the younger agent's reply.

"Never mind!" Jack said, walking out of Marshall's office.

"Anyway, back to this whore business..." Vaughn remarked, turning to the laptop Marshall was working on.

"The nationality of the virus was Russian. I'd say fairly new." Marshall told them.

"What about the whore though?!" Vaughn asked.

"I think that's a euphemism for Catherine." Weiss replied.

"Dang straight." Marshall agreed.

"Well, never mind then!" Vaughn muttered, leaving.

"That idiot!" Marshall and Weiss said at the same time after Vaughn was gone.


	27. Stupid Sisters and Missions

Disclaimer: To anyone reading this, I do not own ALIAS.

A/N: Apple Pie.

"So, Catherine... why are we in an elevator running from Cole after you did your job and killed Lauren?" Sark asked.

"Because we're also running from my sister." Catherine replied.

"I thought you were kidding when you said you had a sister."

"Nope. Got a brother, too, and the morons are working for the Covenant."

"You're working for the Covenant, too."

"Did I ever say I was smart?"

--

"So, Marshall, figured out this Trojan horse thing yet?" Dixon asked.

"Nope. Not really. If you want the honest truth, I think we're gonna need to met the maker." Marshall replied.

"How the hell are we gonna get Catherine to walk into the rotunda unarmed?" Weiss asked.

"We could... capture her." Vaughn suggested.

"Uh huh. That'll work." Jack rolled his eyes.

"We could contact the Maniocs!" Vaughn exclaimed. "Maybe they'll help now that they've got Syd!"

"Uh huh. Riiight." Weiss sarcastically agreed.

"You never know!" Vaughn exclaimed.

"We've got to do _something."_ Marshall stated.

"Capture Catherine. Jack, you, Vaughn and Weiss are going to Moscow. I want her here in one piece. Sark, too." Dixon ordered.


	28. Jorge, Marc, Antonio and Felix

Disclaimer: Don't Own ALIAS, X-Files, The Village or I, Robot

Sydney sighed. She had just finished playing yet ANOTHER game of Hearts with the Manioc leaders.

"Look, I know-" Sydney started, but was cut off by Jorge, the leader of the alien race.

One of his six yellow hands covered her mouth. "Do not speak. Only speak when spoken to."

Sydney sighed and thought about biting Jorge's hand.

Jorge closed his eyes. Marc, Felix, and Antonio's green eyes bore into Sydney.

"We know of your hostile intentions." They said simultaneously.

"Do not worry, Ms. Bristow, we shall be home soon. Then, you shall meet the Regina… and your purpose will be made clear." Jorge explained.

_Oh great._ Sydney thought _Just what I need._

--

The plane was a regular Boeing 747. At least, on the outside. The inside was close to Air Force One, an office in the sky, the main difference being that in this office, the occupants were capable of parachuting from a compartment in the rear of the plane.

Weiss swirled around in the plush chair. "I can't believe they let us travel in this!" He exclaimed.

"We're only taking it because it has a rather convenient jail cell in the bottom of the plane." Jack replied. "Once we catch Catherine and Sark, then we can shove them in the cell and travel back to Los Angeles."

"I still say that all we have to do is talk to the Maniocs, then not only will we be able to access superior intellect, and Sydney, but we'll also be exposed to another culture! Just think of how fascinating it would all be!!" Vaughn ranted.

"Thank you, Mulder." Jack sarcastically remarked.

"What?" Vaughn asked.

"Never mind." Jack replied.

--

"Catherine, let me ask you something…" Sark began.

"I don't do Q and A sessions." Catherine replied. "They aren't my style."

"Fine, then, I suppose that you have a plan."

"Yes."

Currently, they were waiting to board a private jet with the name "The Regina" painted on the side.

"And does this plan involve, oh, I don't know, Queen Elizabeth II?"

"No."

"Then why are we getting on a rather expensive looking jet with 'the Regina' on the side of it?"

"That, Julian, is the right question. Program Terminated."

"And that, Catherine, was a really bad imitation of 'I, Robot'"

"True."

"So, tell me, what are we doing on this fancy jet?"

"I suppose I should tell you…" Catherine sighed. "The Regina is the ruling leader of the monarchy of the Maniocs."

"You can't be serious!"

"Actually, I am. Look deeper, Scully, cause I ain't b.s.ing you today."

"What?"

"Never mind."

--

"There are only so many things that we can teach you at this time, Ms. Bristow." Jorge said. They were playing hearts again. Sydney was winning, which wasn't a major accomplishment, since she had won the last five games, and the last consecutive twenty-seven rounds.

"So, what do you want me to do in the mean time?" Sydney asked.

"We want you to familiarize yourself with this space vessel, it shall be your home for the remainder of you existence." Jorge replied.

Sydney glanced at her surroundings. There was a sleeping area to the right of her, complete with a dresser, full-length mirror, and a queen bed. Beyond the sleeping area was a bathroom. Sydney hadn't been in there yet, but she assumed that it was as complete as the rest of the ship when it came to furnishings. The room they were currently in contained a blue table with blue, plastic chairs. There was a kitchen in front of her that had an oven, stove, microwave, refrigerator/freezer and storage cabinets, all in baby blue. As a matter of fact, the dresser in the bedroom was navy blue, all of the doors were sky blue, the frame of the mirror navy blue, the sheets on the bed were cerulean, which was basically blue, everything in the vessel was _blue._

"Mind if I ask you guys something?" Sydney questioned.

"Go ahead." Jorge nodded.

"Why is everything… _blue?_" She asked.

"We like this color. It soothes us. And it is a safe color." Jorge replied.

"And what's a non-safe color?" Sydney inquired.

"The colors of the sun." Jorge answered. "Orange and red."

--

The plane circled the Moscow airport several times. Vaughn anxiously watched out the window, looking at the harsh landscape, the pavement runways and a plane with big letters saying "The Regina" taking off.

"The Regina… I've seen that somewhere before… in a report… where did I see that?" Vaughn muttered.

Weiss was pacing along the aisle. He was getting cabin fever, and Vaughn was too preoccupied, acting like a little kid to talk to… Jack was his usual boorish self… there was nothing to do and he was stuck in a plane with polar opposites. What was a CIA agent to do?

--

"Is that a CIA jet?" Sark asked. He was watching out the window as they were taking off.

"Where?" Catherine questioned, looking up from the book she was reading on the other side of the cabin.

"Over there." Sark replied, pointing. "Circling around the airport."

Catherine went to another window and looked out. She whistled. "Well I'll be. Good call. Yeah, that's American Government Issue. Most likely it's CIA. Probably sent to look for some terrorist or something."

"Or something."


End file.
